My poetry and photography and thoughts on living at the edge of entropy.

Posts Tagged ‘billoo’

When I walk past the deck door, I still glance out through the glass and look for my baby. Is she waiting by the door pawing at it? Does she want to be let in? Is she waiting patiently? It was me who took her to the vet more than six months ago to end her life. She was in visible pain, unable to eat, unable to even move much in the throes of kidney failure. Oh, the denial, the deep wrenching sadness, tears that are sitting at the edge of my heart but won’t spill. I miss my Billoo, my baby with a ferocious pain. Without thinking logically, I still wait for her to show up at my door. Maybe, just maybe, she will be there again and I will open the door and let her in and she will sit on my lap and purr and take my hand with her paw and place it on her heart and I will hug her and kiss her and she will fall asleep in my lap and warm me inside and outside and she will wake up and eat hungrily and lap up her water from a glass not a dish and watch the birds from the windows and terrorize the neighbor cats and I will love her and she will get inside my comforter and we will fall asleep back to back holding each other’s hands.

Billoo is my love, my sweetie, my guddu, my baby, my darling. I miss her dearly, her soft paws, her meows which were more like a baby’s wail, how she’d wake me up in the morning, that first night when she pulled my hand with her paw and pressed it against her belly to show me how she liked it at night-time, how she’d curl up between the two of us on our bed and claim the space as her own (“waaiiyy-ing if we accidentally brushed her), her curiousity and intelligence. I say “is” because she isn’t here in her body anymore, but that energy transformed itself into another life, her energy is still here in this Universe. Miss you, gudda.

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A Quote to Ponder

It is wrong to think that love comes from long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created for years or even generations. Kahlil Gibran